


Wanna Make You Close Your Eyes

by WhyDoIWrite



Series: Then and Now [1]
Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Late Night Extracurriculars, Marriage Proposal, Washington Spirit, We turned one night into two, she says yes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:29:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28270938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhyDoIWrite/pseuds/WhyDoIWrite
Summary: When a one-night stand fails.
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett
Series: Then and Now [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2071104
Comments: 16
Kudos: 123





	1. Lookin' For a Good Time

**Author's Note:**

> Mix one part tumblr request (Chapter 1) with and one part something I've been wanting to write for awhile now (Chapter 2), and a new series is born. I present to you: Then and Now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonnett's late-night extracurriculars leave Lindsey sleep deprived and Kelley... thinking.

_How bout baby_   
_We make a promise_   
_To not promise anything more than one night_   
_Complicated situations_   
_Only get worse in the morning light_   
_Hey I'm just lookin' for a good time_

_The rule is don't you ever even talk about forever  
But you never say never in life_

Kelley groans and blindly reaches for her phone, somewhere on the nightstand. She curses herself and mostly, the unknown caller as her hand knocks it onto the floor and she’s forced to open her eyes to follow the glowing screen, now not-so-conveniently located under the edge of her bed. She knows she can simply silence her phone or set it to do not disturb, and maybe she should because it triggers a whole wave of grumpiness, but mixed amongst all the grumpiness is also that little buzzing feeling of getting a phone call. She’s old enough to still appreciate people having to call instead of text. Old enough to remember when a house phone was still a thing, and her high school crush would call her every single night. Her mom would walk into her room with a half disgusted, half worried look on her face. “Kelley. It’s Michelle. Again,” and then Kelley would work very hard to contain her excitement, shut her door, and pick up the phone. She knows it’s not a crush on the other end of the line tonight - hell, there’s no one she even thinks about, and it _could_ be an emergency - but, still, someone’s calling her, and that feels kinda good. Even at - Kelley finally grabs her phone without having to get out from under the covers, so win! - three in the morning. By now the caller has long since been sent to voicemail, but when her eyes adjust and she sees that it was Lindsey, her excitement dampens. 

See, Lindsey calling her at three am - two in Portland, but that’s not any better, or any more of a justification - can only mean one thing. 

Before Kelley even has enough time to fully contemplate if she should bother returning the call, her phone is ringing again, and this time, it sounds a little more unbearably shrill, knowing who is… errr _why_ her phone is ringing in the middle of the night.

“What?” she says gruffly, flipping it to speaker so she can drift back off to sleep while Lindsey bitches. At least this way, she doesn’t have to bother holding her phone.

“Ugh, hey to you, too, Kell,” Lindsey chirps.

“Fuck off, Linds. It’s the middle of the night. What do you want?”

“She’s doing it again.”

The _it_ in question is having sex. Very loud, very… ahem… apparently passionate sex, pretty damn close to the shared wall with Lindsey’s bedroom. And Kelley can vouch for that because amongst all the whining, Lindsey has been so kind as to hold the phone up near said wall so Kelley can hear what she has to be traumatized by on a near-weekly basis.

The _she_ in question is Sonnett.

And according to Lindsey, it’s been going on for months. 

It was funny at first. But now, it’s just been months of whiney phone calls. Months of Lindsey bitching. Months of Kelley not knowing what the fuck she’s supposed to do about it, so she flops over onto her stomach and pretends to be equally outraged by Sonnett having great sex by throwing occasional “mmhmms,” and “uh-huhs,” and “I’m sorry you can’t sleep, Linds,” in there, but she doesn’t particularly mean the sorrys because she’s not too sorry Lindsey can’t sleep when SHE’S NOT GETTING TO SLEEP EITHER. And she usually drifts into a half-slumber because she mostly doesn’t care. That is, until Lindsey yells at her or holds the phone up near the wall again.

They both thought it would stop. That Sonnett would get bored of the random hookups. Or at least find one she liked enough to date and then Lindsey would only have to wait for the newness to wear off. But nope, she keeps bringing girls home, and Lindsey keeps calling Kelley. 

But this isn’t her problem.

And Lindsey doesn’t want advice. Clearly.

Kelley suggested that Lindsey pound on the wall. Sit out on the living room couch like a creeper and wait for some of these chicks to leave. Talk to her roommate/best friend. She probably should have suggested that one first; it would have been the mature thing to do, after all, but no one’s ever accused Kelley of being mature. Kelley even offered to talk to Sonnett herself on Lindsey’s behalf, because one thing she is is a good friend. It’s been a string of no’s from the young midfielder, and beyond that, Kelley doesn’t know what else she’s supposed to do except commensurate while she tries, not very hard, to stay awake. 

And tonight, she’s not in the mood. Maybe it’s that they lost. Maybe it’s that she hasn’t been sleeping well lately. September’s such an uneventful month, boring in the grand scheme of months, but it also reminds her of her anniversary, which she supposes is not her anniversary anymore since her girlfriend - ex-girlfriend - broke up with her a few months ago. Beyond all that, very little in the world pisses her off as much as someone asking for advice and then ignoring said advice.

She’s definitely not in the mood when Lindsey holds the phone up tonight. “Do you hear this?” she hisses loudly.

Kelley opens her eyes as the sounds of moans and obscenities, loud enough to be made out clearly enough through the drywall, and some chick yelling Sonnett’s name over and over and over fill her bedroom. Except this woman calls her Emily. Who is Emily even? Kelley doesn’t know an Emily. The last one called her Emily. Come to think of it, they all seem to call her Emily, best Kelley can remember. “Are you sure it’s not the same one as last week? This one sounds- ”

“Absolutely positive it is not the same girl as last week.”

“Why? Were you up when she brought this one home?”

“No, but. This sounds different.”

Kelley sighs, considers not saying what she’s about to say, and then says the words anyway because she’s Kelley. “You seem to know a lot about how Sonnett sounds in bed.”

“Not Sonnett,” Lindsey says defensively, “these other girls. Kell, I think there are two of them tonight.”

Kelley would laugh at they way Lindsey says it, like she’s so unbelievably disturbed by the thought of a threesome, but that’s not a prospect Kelley was prepared for. Sonnett? Handling two girls at once? It’s an interesting visual… err… thought. She composes herself as best she can. “I just don’t understand why you’re up listening though. You could blast your bluetooth speaker, which would serve two purposes, pop your headphones on. I mean, there are choices, Linds. Has it occurred to you that you like listening?”

“Oh fuck you!”

Kelley rolls over onto her back and smirks. “FaceTime me.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to see your face.”

Lindsey’s face is unimpressed.

“Listen. I have two more ideas to put a stop to this once and for all.” 

“Well?” Lindsey’s eyebrows raise hopefully.

“Fake an orgasm. Like a loud one. Bet she gets it then.”

“What!?!” Lindsey screeches, and the way she freaks out is exactly why Kelley wanted to be on FaceTime.

“I cannot fake an orgasm! Are you kidding me? What kind of suggestion is that? This is not some competition. It’s not like, who can come the loudest and then the other one tones it down. God, it would probably turn her - them - on and they’d just be louder.”

“Knowing Sonnett, yeah it might,” Kelley snorts. “But what do you mean you can’t fake an orgasm? Can’t? Or just too shy, Linds?” she teases.

“Can’t.”

Kelley bursts out in a fit of laughter, wide awake now. “You sleep with men. Honey, I’m sure you can fake an orgasm better than the rest of us.”

“That- that- that’s not true.”

“Yeah, ok,” Kelley continues laughing. “So I guess you’ll have to go with a real one then.”

If Lindsey’s reaction to Kelley’s suggestion that she fake it threw her off, this is worse - or at least funnier. “I can’t do that!”

“Is this another ‘can’t’ or can’t?” Kelly asks, oh so amused with herself.

“Can’t. Absolutely. Can. Not.”

“I don’t even know how you were with a dude for as long as you were if you can’t get yourself off. You really should try to get in touch with yourself, Linds.”

“I cannot have this conversation with you anymore.”

Kelley ignores her. “Want me to help you out?”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with _you_?” Kelley shoots back. “I’m just trying to be a good friend. Help you out with Sonnett. Help you out with... you. Seems like a win-win for you.”

“Yeah, seems more like a win for you. You wish you could make me come, don’t you?.” Kelley shrugs. Maybe. Maybe not. Lindsey doesn’t need an answer.“No way it would happen over the phone,” Lindsey insists.

“Guarantee it would happen over the phone.”

“You are the cockiest fucker I’ve ever met, you know that? I’m hanging up.”

Kelley sighs a huge sigh of relief because it means she can get back to sleep. But she can’t help herself once again, with _one_ more suggestion, because it will only take a minute…and be very, very worth it. “Don’t you want to know my very last idea?”

Lindsey rolls her eyes. It can’t be worse than Kelley’s previous idea. “Fine. What is it?”

“Sleep with her. You know you want to. She’s gotta be good in bed, right? Better than that fucking ex-boyfriend of yours. Probably wanna give girls a try, huh? And you know what she’s doing is about you. They’re all just stand-ins for you. If she gets what she really wants, she won’t have a reason to bring random women home anymore. You can get some. And some sleep. In her arms. Win-win. Win.”

Lindsey just squints at her, cocking her head to the side a little. It’s not the reaction Kelley expected. She was thinking there’d be more yelling, definitely another ‘fuck you,’ probably a hang up. But also, if it got Lindsey to stop calling her at three in the morning… all worth it. Kelley stares back at her, trying to read that expression. Is she considering it? Why isn’t she mad? It’s… it’s weird.

“Me? Kell, are you serious? They’re not stand-ins for me.” Lindsey hesitates, weighing whether to spill her friend’s unspoken secret. Kelley’s about to argue with her, but Lindsey continues. “This has nothing to do with me, Kelley.” She pauses again. “This is about…”

“About Sonnett liking sex? Being good at it? What, Linds?”

“No. Yes. I mean, I don’t know about all that. But this is about you, not me. Maybe _you_ should think about doing something about it.” Kelley kinda of stutters, kinda chokes, kinda can’t function. “I think they’re leaving. Whomever they are. I’m going to sleep. Night, Kell.”

And just like that, Lindsey’s gone, presumably totally fine and able to get a halfway decent night’s rest, and Kelley’s left… not. Not able to sleep. Not able to breathe normally. Not able to keep her hand from sliding beneath the waistband of her underwear. Not able to think about anything except...

Emily Sonnett.

Sonnett.

Sonny. 

Son.

Her friend. _Their_ friend. Their _teammate_. Who for months, has been bringing women home to the apartment she shares with Lindsey. Months that, now that Kelley thinks about it, coincide with the last time the national team was together. With the drinking game. With Sonnett surprising everyone and choosing truth right off the bat, and naming Kelley as her celebrity crush. And Kelley laughed. And Sonnett laughed. And all six of them laughed. And then Sonnett picked Natalie Portman, Rose made a joke about her age, and Kelley made a joke about Sonny needing to weasel her way into Angel City FC so she could hit on her. And that was that.

Unless it wasn’t.

Emily Sonnett, who has clearly been doing a good job of… pleasing these women. Lindsey’s told her. She’s heard it for herself. Is it possible that Emily Sonnett is really that good? It kinda has to be, right? It’s not this was a one, or two, or three-time thing. They can’t all be faking it. And more importantly, is it possible that Sonnett - Emily Sonnett - actually answered that question truthfully the first time around? She would though, wouldn’t she? Honest as she is. Drunk as she was. She’d tell the fucking truth, and then laugh it off to cover it up.

What if Lindsey knows something that she doesn’t know?

It’s not the _worst_ idea ever.

Yeah… maybe Lindsey’s right. Maybe Kelley should do something about it. Sonnett’s an adult. Clearly knows what she’s been doing. Clearly capable of having no strings attached sex. Capable in other ways, Kelley assumes. Why _can’t_ she be one of the women Sonnett takes home? What harm could possibly come from two friends sleeping together?

* * *

  
  


“Find somewhere else to sleep tonight,” Kelley kicks the leg of Lindsey’s chair to get her attention. “D’you hear me?”

Mid-sip of her margarita, Lindsey frowns at her. Kelley’s never been one to mince words, but this is extra annoying. “What are you talking about find somewhere else to sleep? I’m sleeping in my bed.”

“Suit yourself. You know how loud I am on the field. You’ve been warned,” Kelley winks and starts to walk off. The blonde grabs her by the sleeve in a panic. “What?” Kelley stares at the hand on her until she lets go.

“You’re not. She’s taking _you_ home?”

“Ew, why’d it say it like that? She should be so lucky. And this was your idea.”

“Well, I didn’t think you would- ”

“I’d what? Sleep with Sonnett? Why’d you think I insisted on all of us going out after the game? You’ve convinced me she might be worth my time. I have no other plans tonight. There’s no one in this bar that should catch her eye over me, so, yeah. Go home with the Aussies.”

“I mean, I thought you wanted to hang out,” Lindsey glares at her. “So she agreed to it? To y’all just having like, a one-night stand? A fling? A what?” she asks skeptically.

“Oh, Sonnett doesn’t know yet.”

“Sonnett doesn’t know what yet?” Sonnett asks from behind them, returning from the bathroom.

“That you’re gonna buy my drinks tonight,” Kelley says easily, already pulling Sonnett with her towards the bar.

“Buy your own drinks,” Sonnett whines. “You’re richer than me.”

“We lost. Winner buys. Thems the rules, kid.”

Sonnett seems to accept that for a minute before it clicks that those are not the rules. “Wait! When we lost in Utah, you made me buy your drinks. You said loser buys drinks. Buy me a beer!”

“I’m closer to retirement. About to have no income. You’ve got longevity going for you. Besides, I let you buy my drinks that night to cheer you up.”

“To cheer _me_ up?”

“Yeah, come on. Admit it. You like buying me drinks,” Kelley signals to the bartender and orders for them both.

“Whatever, I don’t,” Sonnett mumbles unconvincingly, handing her credit card over.

“You do. It makes you feel like you have a shot with me.” Sonnett rolls her eyes and starts to walk back to the table, but Kelley catches her elbow and pats the stool next to her at the end of the bar. “Sit, Sonnett. We’re going to talk.”

“About?” Sonnett eyes her suspiciously.

“About all the fun you’ve been having lately.”

“What do you mean lately? My whole MO is about having fun all the time,” Sonnett reminds her.

“Lately as in Lindsey said you’ve been having some late-night visitors.”

Sonnett chokes on her beer and Kelley pats her back. Hard. “She told you that?” she asks, her voice raspy and raw. “I can’t believe she told you,” she repeats, this time to herself.

“Mmhmm,” Kelley leans on her elbow on the bar, looking at Sonnett expectantly, eyebrow quirked. But Sonnett doesn’t offer anything up. “Seems you’ve been keeping her awake with your… extracurricular activities,” Kelley continues. Even in the low light of the bar, she can see the reddening of Sonnett’s ears.

“Can we please go back?” Sonnett starts to get off her stool.

“Why? Is there some chick you already have your eye on for tonight? It is Friday. Fridays seem to be your thing.”

Sonnett plops back down, almost defeated that Kelley knows this about her. “No. I just don’t want to have this conversation with you.”

“Why not, Sonnett?”

“Because it’s weird.”

“Weirder than you taking strangers home?” Kelley prods.

Sonnett lets out a long, controlled breath. “You’re not my mother. Why do you care?”

“Oh, trust me. I know I’m not. Unless you're into that sort of thing." Sonnett looks like she could die on the spot, like she's fully convinced that death would be preferable to having this conversation with her mentor. "I don’t care what you do," Kelley continues. "Well not in the way you think I do.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Lindsey calls me pissed. Every time. She thinks I should suffer with her. She ruins my sleep. _You_ ruin my sleep, Sonnett,” Kelley explains. 

“Well tell Lindsey I’ll tone it down, or whatever,” she mumbles. “Sorry.” She won’t even look at Kelley now, and Kelley has to poke her shoulder to finally get her to pick her head up.

“Not quite yet,” Kelley wiggles her eyebrows. “You seem to be single. I’m single now. We’re friends. Maybe I want a turn on the ride that is Emily Sonnett. I’ve,” Kelley clears her throat more for effect than anything else, “heard a lot about it.” Kelley really didn't think Sonnett's embarrassment could grow, and yet here they are. So she just keeps staring at Sonnett with an equal part mischievous, determined, crazy, and confident grin on her face.

“There is no ride,” Sonnett says sheepishly, her teeth gritted, because she really, _really_ doesn’t want to have this conversation in public.

“Well what is there?”

“Kell, seriously. We can’t have this conversation.”

“Oh Sonnett. Sweet, sweet Sonnett,” Kelley pats her cheek, “we don’t have to have a conversation. In fact, I think it would be better if we didn’t talk much at all. What do you think?”

Sonnett stares at Kelley for what seems like an eternity, trying to figure out if she’s serious. If Kelley actually wants this. Wants her. It seems like a dream? Like a prank? Like taking Kelley O’Hara home with her is not in the realm of possibilities, and yet…

“All those times Lindsey called, I didn’t tell her, but it turned me on to hear the way you drove those women crazy. I kept picturing you doing things to me,” Kelley purrs in her ear, just enough alcohol coursing through her now to lower her inhibitions a touch, not that she’s ever really needed help with that. “Don't tell me you've never fantasized about hearing your name on my lips. Show me how good you are, Sonny,” Kelley slides her hand up Sonnett’s thigh until Sonnett is squirming uncomfortably in her seat. But Kelley doesn’t relent. “I bet you’re so good. So attentive, aren’t you?” Kelley wouldn’t be like this normally, so pushy. She’s not trying to. She’s trying to toe that line between assertive and needy in a way that makes it impossible for Sonnett to resist her as she strokes her ego. Because if there is one thing that Sonnett loves, it’s being told how good she is at something. “So, you got any plans for tonight or are you taking me home?” Kelley pulls back, a very serious look on her face, and then she downs the rest of her beer.

Kelley winks at Lindsey as they near the table to pick up her jacket. “Told ya,” she mouths, and then adds a giddy “don’t come home,” over her shoulder as Sonnett starts to lead her out of the bar. She gets a string of texts from Lindsey while in the Uber back to Sonnetts place. 

_I fucking hate you._ _  
__You owe me._ _  
__Also, she has feelings for you._ _  
__You better not break her heart or I will break you._

Kelley laughs it off to herself, still completely unconvinced that Sonnett has anything but a high sex drive and a good game. Or a good game with everyone but her.

*****

“So what are we supposed to do?” Sonnett asks, awkwardly leaning against the door while Kelley mills about her apartment, flipping through books, poking plants to see if they’re real, staring at artwork with an unreadable expression. She's pretty impressed with herself for how little convincing it actually took to get inside Sonnett's apartment. She's impressed with how grown up it is. What she is not impressed with is the fact that she is not in the younger defender's bed already.

“Dunno. What do you do when you bring girls home?”

Sonnett chews on her lip for a bit. “You’d already be in my bedroom if you were one of those girls.”

Now that's more like it. “Well then?” But Sonnett still doesn’t move, seemingly frozen in place. “Do you need me to act like a bimbo? Rub up against you? Call you stud? I don’t know, what do they do? What do you need?” Sonnett’s face is redder than Kelley’s ever seen it. “Ugh,” Kelley rolls her eyes. “Why don’t you tell me about how you’re a famous professional soccer player and you have a World Cup medal,” she suggests. “I’m sure that’s how you get ‘em all to come home with you.”

“I don’t tell them that,” Sonnett says quietly.

It confuses Kelley, this reserved version of Sonnett that’s not how she is on the field or around friends, or in her bedroom with strangers in the middle of the night. “Well how do you get them to come home with you then?”

“Rude!” Sonnett scowls at her. “Maybe it’s my good looks. Good Southern charm. This smile.” Sonnett flashes one and winks at her for good measure, and there’s the little bit that’s been missing, the confidence that Sonnett so obviously has somewhere deep down that allows her to pick these girls up at bars. 

“Just pretend I’m one of them,” Kelley suggests.

“Shoulda done more at the bar if that’s what you wanted me to do.”

“Like what?” Kelley saunters over to her, and as soon as she’s close enough, Sonnett’s hands slide around her waist, and that certainly feels like progress.

“Hit on me.”

“Did I not?” In Kelley’s mind, she was way more upfront than she would ever be with anyone else. Because it’s Sonnett. And because making her uncomfortable is funny. But maybe that was the wrong approach, she worries now.

Sonnett pauses to think about it. “I guess you did. I think it’s just different because it’s you.”

And Kelley supposes she gets it - that it would be easier for her not knowing the person, not feeling like she’s being judged by someone she has to see so often - even though the way she sees it, the fact that they know each other so well should make it easier. “So pretend I’m one of them,” Kelley repeats, and she stands on her tiptoes so she can whisper in Sonnett’s ear. She can’t help but smile at the way Sonnett’s hand shifts to the small of her back with that. “I want the full Sonny one-night stand treatment.”

“And that’s it?” Sonnett leans away from her, still studying her face. Always studying her face.

“Sure. Why not?” Kelley says nonchalantly. “Show me how this would have gone differently. Do we have to go back to the elevator? Your car? The- ” Sonnett cuts her off with goddamn song lyrics of all things.

 _“I’m not talking’ bout locking down forever, baby, that would be too demanding. I’m just talking’ bout two lonely people who might reach a little understanding._ ” It’s meant to ease the tension Sonnett’s feeling. To bring her back to who she always is capable of being around Kelley. To bring laughter, or at least a smile, with that exaggerated twang and deep voice. Before Kelley has time to roll her eyes, before she has time to give Sonnett shit for her singing voice or her song choice or just her overall lack of game, before she can even wrap her head around the fact that Emily Sonnett is the most fucking adorable girl she’s ever been this close to falling into bed with, Sonnett surprises with a kiss, and that kiss does more than just catch her off-guard. It’s so tender, and the pads of Sonnett’s fingers resting on her jaw are so gentle, that it leaves her wanting more. She parts her lips, silently asking Sonnett to deepen the kiss, and when she does, it leaves Kelley a little weak, a little dizzy. She can’t think, but her lips seem to know what to do, and thankfully, so does Sonnett. The kiss becomes so insistent that Kelley feels like her lungs can’t refill with air, and right before it’s all too much, Sonnett drops her hands back to Kelley’s hips and noses along her neck until she draws just the right sound out of the older woman. She sucks on that spot, so briefly, and so softly that that leaves Kelley wanting more, too. But then Sonnett’s lips are on her ear, and that is so much better. “So fucking gorgeous. Want you so bad." Before Kelley even realizes it, they’re halfway down the hallway and her shirt is halfway unbuttoned.

Everything Sonnett does is slow in a way that makes her feel strangely almost loved. Every piece of clothing that’s removed. Every kiss. Every touch. Every flick of her tongue or curl of her fingers. Until it's not, until it's fast and frantic and it makes Kelley feel desired on a primal level.

Every bit of eye contact Sonnett gives her, like she _knows_ that’s Kelley’s love language, makes the experience feel so deep that Kelley can’t help but squeeze her eyes shut in a desperate attempt to only focus on the physical.

Every sound she makes, every twitch of her body, it’s like Sonnett is prepared to respond to give her just the right amount more or to pull back just enough.

And Kelley would apologize for the way she crushes Sonnett’s head between her thighs, for the crescent moon indentions her nails leave on Sonnett’s back, for pulling her hair probably a little too roughly, if she could string enough words together to do so coherently.

It feels like they’ve tumbled into bed together a thousand times.

It feels like shouting Sonnett’s name over and over is so overwhelming it might bring her closer to God.

It feels like a physical and emotional connection like this shouldn’t be allowed to exist.

It feels like it’s never going to end, and Kelley is just fine with it not, because nothing about this feels like a one-night stand.

But eventually her arches are cramping and she's too sensitive to go again, and Sonnett collapses on top of her, running her fingers through her dark, sweaty hair.

  
  


“Ok,” Kelley manages to get out, still not having caught her breath.

“Ok? Like just ok?” Sonnett scrunches her face up and rolls off of her.

“No, like ok, I’m just trying to get my bearings. Sonny, that was out of this world amazing. No wonder those girls are so loud.”

Sonnett shies away from her, a little embarrassed again, like they haven't just been naked together and Kelley didn't just lose herself completely in it all. “You are loud, Kell. _You._ Lindsey’s gonna- ”

“She’s not here,” Kelley tries to reassure her. “Told her not to come home.”

“Oh my god, I feel like that’s worse,” Sonnett covers her face with her arm, but Kelley peels it back off. “Kell, she’s never going to let me live this down.”

“So I guess that means you want me to go then? So she doesn’t come home in the morning and find me here?”

“I mean, yeah.” Kelley can’t help but hear the question in that, the way her voice turns up just enough at the end to give her a little hope. “You said all you wanted was the one-night stand special so.”

So no shower. No cuddling. No waking up accidentally tangled in each other’s arms. No breakfast tomorrow morning. It’s exactly what Kelley asked for and she has no reason to be disappointed, to feel that tiny little pang in her chest. So tiny she could ignore it. Should ignore it. She’s probably just dehydrated. It’s probably nothing. “Yep. All right then,” Kelley fakes a little chuckle, “don’t want to make it awkward.” But it could be something. Something that goes beyond how mind-blowing that was. Something far beyond the physical. Something about how easy it was. How comfortable they were. In-sync like she’s always assumed they would be if they ever got to play alongside each other. But no one gives them the chance. And this doesn’t seem like they’ll have a chance either.

“Yeah.” There’s still something there, something in Sonnett’s voice that she can’t quite place. A little sadness, perhaps? Unless it’s regret, which Kelley certainly hopes it isn’t. Doesn’t look like regret, not really. She’s almost able to wrap her head around Lindsey’s words - _she has feelings for you_ \- but Sonnett puts an end to that. “Want me to drive you to your hotel?” Kelley shakes her head. “Get you an Uber?”

“I’m good,” Kelley says over her shoulder as she buttons her flannel and stands to pull her jeans up.

“Walk you out at least?”

“Do you walk all your one-night stands out?” 

“No. Never.”

“I got it, Son.” Kelley leans over, and god, she could kiss her. Kiss her goodbye. Kiss her back down into the bed. Start all over. Explore Sonnett’s body because she didn’t get to. Because that’s what she wants to do. A want that verges on a need, almost. Instead, she pats Sonnett’s thigh. “See ya in camp in a coupla weeks. Better be ready for a fight if you want minutes in either of the Korea games.” And because it makes it easier - at least on a surface level - she tousles Sonnett’s hair right before she turns away and doesn’t look back. As she sits in the back of her Uber, forehead pressed against the window, she doesn’t understand how or why she walked out of that apartment, but she did. Now she’s on her way back to a cold, empty hotel room, the prospect of which has never bothered her before. Until tonight.


	2. Got What I Got

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> #MyPLMorning, a Zoom call, and a ring.

_When I got what I got, I don’t miss what I had_ _  
__The old me before you belongs to the past_ _  
__In the back of your mind, you might think there’s somethin’ more I want_ _  
__But when I got what I got, girl, I don’t_

“Go make us coffee,” Kelley snuggles up to Emily, even though she knows that will likely result in the exact opposite of her ending up with coffee. She can’t help that she has a cuddly girlfriend who makes getting out of bed one of the worst parts of the day.

“Too cold,” Emily mumbles, still half asleep. Even in this semi-conscious state, she manages to scrunch up her face, deep lines appearing on her forehead. 

Kelley really doesn’t want to bother her, but she _really_ wants coffee - and warmth - before she has to get out of bed to watch the Tottenham-Arsenal game. “And turn the heater on while you’re up.” Kelley settles deeper into the softness of the mattress. She could roll over and get her phone from the charger and do it herself, but that would disturb her perfect peace, and there’s no point when her girlfriend will soon pass right by the thermostat.

“Don’t want the heater. I want you,” Emily whines. It’s cute, and she knows it. And Kelley knows it. And they both know that each other knows. “Besides, if I am forced to use artificial heat, I want a fire.”

“I mean, a fire’s not exactly artificial...” Kelley points out, and she drops a soft kiss to Emily’s jugular notch because she loves how sensitive Emily is there.

“It’s not you. It’s fake. But at least it’s pretty and it smells nice and it sounds nice... come to think of it, you’re pretty and you smell nice and sound nice.” Emily buries her cold nose in the crook of Kelley’s neck and Kelley screeches. “ _That_ does not sound nice,” Emily recoils.

“Go start a fire then,” Kelley playfully pushes her even farther away.

“I don’t wanna go outside and get firewood. It’s so cold!” This time Emily’s whine is much more of a complaint and much less cute.

“Put clothes on. You’ll be fine.”

“No, then I can’t do this,” Emily retorts, rolling over halfway onto Kelley’s naked body and kissing her. She lets her hand run up Kelley’s side, her fingertips, no matter how warm they are, still responsible for hundreds of tiny goosebumps. Kelley would throw her out of bed for the resulting shiver she feels in her stomach if it weren’t for the thigh slowly making its way between her legs and Emily’s lips on her neck. 

Kelley tilts her head to the side, giving Emily all the access she could possibly need to mark her pale, freckled skin as her own, but she knows the younger woman never will. She’s too polite. Too gentle. Too concerned about appearances. She’s different when it comes to Kelley, different than she was with other women. Different even than she was when they first started sleeping together. Initially, the change in Emily bothered Kelley. She felt like the young defender was afraid to be herself with her, afraid to be free. But over time, Kelley has learned it’s reverence, and a different kind of reverence than when the awkward pre-teen was cutting out articles about the Georgia star from the local newspaper and pinning them to her bulletin board. Once Emma told her that, Kelley decided she would never, ever, let Emily live it down. Regardless, right now, the puffs of her breath, warm and relaxed, are more than welcome in lieu of bruising marks. So is her hand, finally working its way lower. That sends a shiver coursing through Kelley’s entire body. This _is_ Emily as herself, respectful and in love, with no need to impress anyone, and no void to fill, nothing to prove, and no one to show off for.

“Fuck, baby. Do we have time for this?” Kelley moans, closing her eyes.

“Always time,” Emily whispers, sliding down her body.

* * *

“Goddamnit!” Kelley shouts, shooting straight up. Emily mentally cheers herself for remembering to put the remote just out of Kelley’s reach this time so it doesn’t end up on the opposite side of the room, back popped open and batteries rolling across the floor like last time. When Kelley gets fired up, sometimes the nearest object accidentally goes flying.

“I love how enthused you are over a team that’s not your team and that you have no affiliation with at all,” Emily teases her, pulling her back down and replacing the blanket over her bare shoulders.

“They are my team. They’re your team, too.”

“Yeah, ok.”

“Where’s your passion, Em? Your fire?” Kelley complains.

At the moment, it’s burning low in her gut, maybe between her legs as she pulls Kelley back against her and Kelley wiggles her butt just a little. And it’s across the room, too, she supposes, popping and crackling and bathing their living room in a warm glow. But it’s certainly not for Tottenham, not even with Son on the pitch. Not even with his banger of a goal keeping her best friend’s team near the relegation zone and giving her endless fodder for their next camp. She hasn’t a care in the world for the game on TV, but Premier League weekends, on cold December mornings, naked under a blanket with her girlfriend are her absolute favorite mornings. Kelley thought she was ridiculous insisting that a fireplace was her top priority in a home. Doesn’t seem like she thinks it’s ridiculous anymore.

“Go put your jersey on. You never wear it. This is the perfect time. Get ready for Lindsey’s halftime zoom. Really rub it in.”

“You’re seriously asking me to put clothes on? Again? Who are you even?” But Emily gets up, stares at Kelley for a beat like she’s expecting the older woman to do the same, and rolls her eyes when Kelley shoos her away. A few minutes later, she’s back, with a Spurs scarf in hand. “Here, look like you support the team,” she throws it at Kelley and opts to force the older woman to hold her instead of assuming her normal position sandwiched between her girlfriend and the cushions. 

“Do you miss being a fuckboy” Kelley asks quietly after a few minutes. She’s been silently stroking her thumb over Emily’s abs, lost in thought since the younger woman came back.

“Excuse me!”

“I’m serious, Em,” Kelley tugs on her jersey until she rolls over and they’re both ignoring the game. That’s anything but normal for Kelley. She doesn’t think about Emily’s past much anymore, but sometimes, she wonders if this life of theirs, selling their individual condos across multiple cities to opt for shared homes in Atlanta and DC is a little too much settling down for Emily’s free spirit. And when she starts thinking about that, she ends up fixating on their age difference, too. “You were with so many people and now you’re just with me and-”

“And you think maybe I miss that?” Emily pushes Kelley’s hair back off her face so she can really see her.

“Yeah, maybe,” Kelley mumbles.

“Hell no, I don’t,” Emily says enthusiastically, and with a grin.

“Em, I’m being serious…”

“When I got what I got, girl, I don’t,” Emily croons, and Kelley smacks her with the pillow from under her head.

“Living with you is like being stuck in a musical.”

“Well, yeah, except that’s gay.”

“You’re gay!” Kelley laughs at her. “Do you seriously have a song for every occasion?”

“Pretty much. Our wedding song is already picked out. Gonna sing it on our big day.” Emily can feel Kelley’s body tense beside her. She could throw out a simple ‘I’m joking,’ right now if she wanted, smooth things over, but she wasn’t joking about anything other than the public singing.

“Seriously?” Kelley chokes out.

“Just waiting for you to pop the question, Kell.”

Kelley doesn’t say anything, but tilts Emily’s chin up and kisses her. It’s not that she doesn’t want to marry Emily, because she does - so much that she has a ring buried under a stack of old t-shirts in a drawer. She just didn’t know Emily had ever thought that seriously about marrying her, so she’s never had the guts to pop the question. It’s shocking, but in a good way. She doesn’t quite know what to say though.

“I’ve got a catalogue in my head,” Emily continues, starting to feel bad that she’s left the other woman speechless. “It’s a special talent, really. To be able to break into song at the drop of a hat, you know. I’ll put it to use after soccer.”

“Big, big plans, huh?”

“See!” Emily says proudly, “I’m rubbing off on you! Good job, babe!” She plants a loud, wet kiss on Kelley’s cheek, which causes Kelley to cringe and both of them to start laughing. “We should take a picture of us and submit it for My Premier League Morning,” Emily suggests.

“Oh yeah? Send one to be displayed on national TV?” Kelley asks dubiously.

But Emily reaches over her head to grab her phone and snaps a quick selfie of them under the covers. “See? Look at us. Look at how cute we are!”

“You cannot send that in, it looks like I’m naked under there!”

“Well you are,” Emily shrugs with a smirk, and as if to prove that she hasn’t forgotten, she tosses her phone aside so she can run her hands all over that naked body, and Kelley relaxes, because as long as her partner’s hands are busy, their photo is safe. “What if we skip this zoom?” Emily asks as she ducks her head to lick and nip at Kelley’s nipple.

“Fuck, Em. We can’t. Lindsey’ll get mad, and we’re winning anyway. You never- fuck, baby,” Kelley has to bite her lip before she can continue. “You never miss a chance to drag her for supporting Arsenal.”

“I know,” Emily starts kissing a trail down Kelley’s stomach, “but think of what I could do during a fifteen or twenty minute halftime. Do you know how many orgasms that is? You wouldn’t have to miss any of the game...” She bites down just below Kelley’s belly button and Kelley lets out a needy whine. “See, beautiful, you don’t want to zoom with Lindsey either.” She looks up at Kelley, her eyes closed, lips barely starting to part, and presses her legs a little farther open with no resistance at all. She’s so close to winning out over soccer...

But cheering from the TV interrupts their moment. “Fuck, I missed the goal!” Kelley scowls, sitting up to catch the replay, and Emily huffs and rolls her eyes because she knows she has no chance now. And true to form, as stoppage time wears down towards the whistle, Kelley’s sliding back under the blanket only to prod Emily to open up her laptop. Emily’s able to get a few more kisses - slow, drawn-out, sensual kisses that she hopes provide enough of a distraction - in before Kelley’s poking her in the ribs hard enough that she has to give in.

“You’re late,” is the first thing they hear, from Rose.

“What are y’all even doing on this Zoom? City isn’t playing,” Emily squints at the screen to see both Sam and Rose. “You,” she says, referring to Sam, “probably have promised your first born to Man City, and you,” she adds, referring to Rose, “don’t even like men’s footy enough to watch anyone but City.” Normally, they only get their two teammates when it’s a Tottenham-City match. 

“Whatever,” Sam replies, “we missed you guys and we’re not going to see you in camp in a few weeks, so we hopped on Lindsey’s thing.”

“Are you two naked?” Rose chimes in, a disgusted look on her face. 

“No, I’m wearing my Son jersey,” Emily shoots back. “I’d show you, but Kelley is naked.” Kelley pinches her under the blanket, and Emily squeals.

“You two make me sick how in love you still are,” Rose shakes her head. 

“Yeah, when are you going to put a ring on it?” Lindsey asks, and there’s no way of knowing who she’s directing that question towards.

“Baby, turn the camera off please,” Kelley kisses Emily’s cheek and Rose makes a gagging sound. “I’m going to go put on some clothes so we don’t make Rose throw up her breakfast.”

In their bedroom, Kelley slips on a pair of joggers and one of Emily’s hoodies. She takes a moment to compose herself, but she knows she doesn’t have long if she’s really going to do this. In some respects, this is the most ridiculous thing ever. It’s not even going to be a good proposal. Emily deserves something big. Elaborate. Flowers, at least. On the other hand, she had considered doing it at January camp, in front of the team, but even that’s sounding less and less like a good idea because two of her - their - closest friends won’t even be there. In the end, Emily would probably appreciate something smaller, anyway. She talks a big game about being out to the world, but, like with the My PL Morning photo, it’s not really her. Sweats and messy hair, no makeup, no shoes is probably more up her alley than anything else. Rose is right, they are still so very much in love. And Lindsey clearly thinks one of them should do _something_. She shoots off a couple of quick texts to Lindsey warning her of what’s coming and asking her to hit record on Zoom when she gets back to their living room. At least if it’s going to be this dumb… errr… spontaneous of a proposal, they’ll get to watch it forever and ever. And she reminds Lindsey not to spoil the surprise, because that seems like an important warning.

Kelley walks back into their living room, stopping in the space between the coffee table and the sofa. Emily smacks her on the butt and laughs about it when she bends over to turn the camera back on. Blocking Emily’s view of the screen, Kelley holds her finger up to her lips to shush Sam and Rose, and gives them a peak at the small turquoise box in her hand.

“Move,” comes Emily’s whiney voice from behind her. “I’m missing the goals.”

“Oh, now you care about them,” Kelley jokes without turning around, waiting for a thumbs up from their friends. Once she’s sure they don’t think it’s a horrible idea, she turns around and faces her girlfriend. “Em?” she says softly, but Emily’s eyes are glued on the TV, and it really shouldn’t surprise her. When she’s not forced to watch film, watching the highlights really is how she watches soccer.

“Kell, come on, I can’t see the TV,” Emily continues to complain, straining her neck to try to see around the other woman. She doesn’t even notice when Kelley drops to one knee, she’s just relieved she can see again.

“Dasani,” Lindsey tries to get her attention.

“Did you see Son’s goal, Linds. Like, what is wrong with your team? They didn’t even mark him. Do they know his power?”

“I saw it,” Lindsey mutters, “but- ”

“And that cheeky little pass he made to Harry Kane? Top bin shit! Man your defense sucks.”

“Sonnett!” Rose shouts, and Emily pulls her eyes away from the TV to look at the laptop screen. “Look at your girlfriend.”

Emily blinks a few times when she realizes Kelley is on her knee. “What are you-” she starts, sitting up from under the blanket. “Kell?” Her voice is shaky and for once, she looks pale.

“Baby? I have a question I need to ask you.” She could be traditional and just ask the question. She could say something about how in love she is or how she wants to spend the rest of her life snuggled on the couch with the girl whose cute blonde bun and ridiculously loud laugh caught her attention earlier on than she’s willing to admit it. Emily’s eyes are already filling with tears, so Kelley plows ahead, and instead, she plays into something she knows will be meaningful to Emily. “Do you really think I’m where you belong?”

It takes Emily a moment to get it because she was expecting a different question. Their friends in the background even let out an audible gasp because it wasn’t what they were expecting either, but then it clicks for her. “You’re perfect for me. Everything I ever need.” She can’t sing - thankfully - because she’s too choked up. 

“Well then, will you marry me?” Kelley finally asks, sliding the ring on Emily’s finger before she even gets a yes.

“Girl, just kiss me. You’re all that I want,” Emily sniffles.

“Fucking finally,” Lindsey cheers as their lips crash together, a mess of teeth and tears and smiles that make everything else seem unimportant.

“So damn many questions,” Rose mutters under her breath. “I thought you just had to ask one. And that it’s supposed to be a yes or a no. Why are you two so extra?”

“You guys, I’m so happy.” Sam’s crying right alongside them.

“Did y’all know about this?” Emily asks, half laughing, half sobbing, her voice hoarse. She pulls Kelley up onto the couch next to her, and they fall back together, wrapped up in each other, much to Rose’s chagrin.

“Found out like 2 minutes before she did it,” Lindsey gushes, “but it was enough time for me to record it.”

“Oh thank god. Linds, you gotta send that to everyone. We’re gonna make fun of them for the rest of their lives.” Emily sticks out her tongue at Rose, but Rose really means to rile Kelley up. She can’t though; Kelley’s too over the moon in love to even care about the threat of Rose’s harassment. The four friends start talking a mile a minute, wanting Emily to show off the ring, already trying to plan her wedding like it’s happening next week. Kelley hears Rose try to claim the Maid of Honor role, and Lindsey arguing that it’s automatically hers because she is responsible for the relationship. It all just kind of fades into the background for her as she watches her fiancé, still occasionally having to wipe her eyes, smiling the biggest smile she thinks she’s ever seen.

*****

“You know you’re crazy, right?” Emily whispers against her hairline, as they wait for the next PL game to start. She still feels the need to calm the older woman's earlier fears, even if she did pop the question. They still haven’t moved off of the couch, neither willing to separate from each other to go make breakfast, and for once, Kelley is fine with it, so Emily lets it be. “There’s not been a day since I took you home that I’ve regretted us.”

“I took _you_ home,” Kelley corrects her. “I mean, it was technically your home, but we ended up there because of me.”

“Because of Lindsey, apparently,” Emily winks.

“Whatever,” Kelley grumbles.

“Wish it hadn’t taken you so long.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. I always wanted you.” Kelley considers telling her about Lindsey’s theory back then, that Emily’s escapades were because she couldn’t have the one woman she wanted, but she decides now’s not the time.

“I loved you a long time before I told you,” Kelley admits quietly.

“Yeah?” Emily’s eyes light up. “Why’d you hold onto that?”

“We said one time. And then I invited you to Utah, and we said casual. I thought maybe you didn’t want what I wanted.”

“I always wanted what you wanted. I didn’t want anyone else after I had you. Didn’t you ever wonder why Lindsey’s calls stopped?”

Kelley just shrugs under Emily’s chin. She’s never been one to get her hopes up, in soccer or love. She’s seen too many things go wrong in both. It’s why she never believed Emily would get out of Orlando and would end up back in Europe. It’s why she held onto the ring, unwilling to face the possibility of a no or a not yet. “I’m really glad we fought to get you to DC.”

“Me, too,” Emily yawns and relaxes against her. “This really wasn’t planned?”

“I would have done so much better if it had been planned, Em.”

“You’re never spontaneous. But this was the most perfect proposal I could ever imagine. I love you so much, Kell.”

“Love you, too. Wanna call your family before the Liverpool game?”

“Actually,” Emily picks her head up and there’s a twinkle in her eye that Kelley should recognize, but she has no idea what’s behind it. “I think we need a different picture. One with this rock. And it really is getting the #MyPLMorning. Get your scarf.”

“You know between your jersey and my scarf and that ring, they’re probably going to air it right. Even if they don’t recognize us.”

“Yep,” Emily raises her phone above them and holds her hand up. “Smile, baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? I’ll take ‘em. I love reading them no matter what. But there’s always tumblr, too... @whydoiwrite.


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